


As Gay as Pink Ink

by glittertech



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Mild Angst, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Trans Male Character, Unbeta'd
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-25
Updated: 2017-04-25
Packaged: 2018-10-24 00:03:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10730061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glittertech/pseuds/glittertech
Summary: In a Night Vale where everyone has their soulmate's name on their wrist, Cecil has sixteen.





	As Gay as Pink Ink

When Cecil is born, the first thing the nurses do after wiping him clean is tattoo a hazy shape onto his left wrist, just like they do with all newborns. It takes only two dozen strokes across Cecil’s tiny wrist to complete, just like it does with all newborns. The shape is messily ovular and the same shade of grey as graphite, just as it is for all newborns. It is the name of his determined; illegible because the dark magicks in the ink will wait until Cecil is old enough to know who he will spend his life with, just like they will for all newborns. What sets Cecil apart from all other newborns is that his nurses must cross out the first shadow and put another below it, for his determined has changed their name. The nurses giggle and whisper under their gas masks at this curiosity of a child, but Cecil doesn’t notice. He is more concerned with other important things like light, gravity, and a mother’s touch.

When Cecil turns four, he is awakened in the night by a searing pain across the skin of his wrist. A young man in scrubs with an arrow through his stomach is holding down Cecil’s arm and pressing a tattoo machine to it. He says that a modification to the name of Cecil’s determined is needed. He tattoos another shape just underneath the second one, which has been crossed out. He does not bother to give it any particular structure because the ink moves to do that itself. The stranger cleans up and bandages Cecil’s new tattoo and says he will be back in the morning to check on it. He backflips out of Cecil’s bedroom window.

When Cecil sees the man again five hours later, he introduces himself as Nurse Daniel. He has worked for Night Vale General Hospital for fifty-seven years, owns a cat and a guinea pig, the arrow in his stomach is friendly fire from the White River War, and his favorite movie genre is cyborg romcoms.

Cecil grows up, as most people do. He wonders whose wrist his name is written on. He wonders whose name is written on his wrist. He goes to school and makes friends. He learns that the City Council, because they are a very kind and loving dictatorial head of government, use a method called the person-to-person matching system to pair each citizen of Night Vale with a compatible partner, easily identifiable by a tattoo on the wrist of their dominant arm (or the longest dominant arm, in case of multiple, over the leftmost part of the body in case of none, on a nice little index card kept at City Hall in case of incorporeality, allergy to dark magicks, etc. etc.). He involves himself in activities with his friends. He lovingly strokes the stormy grey ink clouds on his wrist which have been slowly clarifying over the years. They do not physically resemble words yet, but Cecil thinks of the shapes when he hears the word “love”. The tattoos convalesce, forming words as quickly as Cecil’s growing body can make it happen. 

By the time Cecil is eight years old and has six grey puffs running down his forearm, he starts to think it odd that he has never seen anyone else with so many. He shows it to his Determined Determination 101 teacher after class. Mx. Creely-Ndagire hustles zir student into the closet at the back of the room before telling Cecil that some people change their names over the course of their lives. City Council chooses to tattoo all of them onto their citizens to make it easier to be sure of who one’s determined is. Zhe enumerate an extremely long list of reasons why someone might change their name and ends it by telling Cecil that most people do it because it makes them feel better and that maybe his determined is really trying to feel better. Cecil is excited by this. His determined is figuring themselves out, learning how they want to be seen in the world. Little Cecil wants nothing more than for his determined to be happy. As he steps out of the closet, he does not hear Mx. Creely-Ndagire advise him to be cautious about who sees the names, because someone might be unkind. 

Cecil shows Earl all of his half-formed names between  _ Introductory Knife Fighting _ and  _ Sorrowful Ululations and You _ to see what he thinks. Earl furtively tells Cecil that his mother had two names on her wrist because his father never liked his birth name. Cecil thinks it is nice to hear of a real-world example of such a fascinating phenomenon, but he still thinks it is odd that no one discusses it unless he brings it up. Heck, he goes to  _ The Person-to-Person Matching Process: How the City Council Uses PtPMS to Decide Your Romantic Life for You! _ nine times a week and he’s never heard about it.

Some time later, when he is about thirteen, he learns that change does not always make people happy. When Abby announces that she is a girl and no longer anyone’s son, their mother only stares at the wall in front of her. Abby cries, throwing pots and pans at their mother until there are none left to throw. Cecil himself understands it to be more of a cautiously encouraging blank indifference, but Abby insists that their mother is not projecting the properly supportive kind of silent nonchalance. Cecil and Abby pick up the pots and pans afterwards and only lose five of them to the rats living in the baseboards.

At school, now with ten names on his arm, he gets bullied because yes, some people are unkind. Pre-teens are frightful creatures who instinctively lash out at difference. People tear off his long sleeves to point and laugh. Some smear pencil lead across their arms a dozen times, waving them mockingly at Cecil and proclaiming that they’ve beaten him, even though it is not a contest. He is called names like “scribble limbs,” “antecubital smokestack” and “person with a really indecisive determined.” Cecil fights everyone who says the last one because he loves his determined more than anything in the world. He never wins and receives only bruises as consolation prizes. Abby coos sadly at Cecil whenever she sees him hurt and they sit together on the floors of various school bathrooms to rub healing poultices over the bruises. 

The names becomes legible three days before Cecil’s seventeenth birthday. He wakes up to see that his bedroom door has been chained shut, which he assumes that his mother did, but Cecil is okay with that. Even though his body is ready, he doesn’t think he should meet his determined yet either. Cecil is currently a mere fraction of a person. There are so many things that he does not know, and may never know, but he will not know if he will know if he never grows up. So he sits, waits, and memorizes the names on his arm. Luz, Lucha, Mayte, Clara, Phoebe, Nicanor, Demoleon, Anaximander, Thestor, and Lambros, over and over and over again.

Cecil is deemed a special case by Night Vale General Hospital and Nurse Daniel, now just Danny to Cecil, holds two positions as an RN and a personal tattoo nurse. Danny insists on not being called a tattoo artist because he has a Bachelor’s of Science in nursing and doesn’t even know what kind of education real tattoo artists need. They become good friends. At erratic intervals, Danny’s pager will go off and he will find Cecil, they will sit down together, and the man adds another name to the growing list.

Cecil is staring thoughtfully at his arm, which is something he does often, but with more of a furrow in his brow. Danny has just recently crossed out Roshan and replaced it with Yasen. Cecil has no problem with this name, but he does feel wary about the fact that it is written across the wrinkle just above his elbow. If there is another name, it will sit firmly in the crease of his elbow. Cecil wishes fiercely, unrepentantly for a moment that elbows did not exist.

As Danny wipes off the excess ink and blood, he says “I feel real bad for whatever name ends up in your elbow.” Cecil nods distractedly, biting his lip.

The name ends up being Crimthann. It takes Danny twice as long as usual to do it because Cecil is ticklish.

Then comes Alberto, done away with by Marcelo, which is quickly replaced by Carlos. The name is just below the halfway point of Cecil’s left bicep. As he finishes, Danny tells Cecil that he thinks this is the last one. Cecil is so surprised that he jostles Danny’s steady hand, accidentally getting a spot of ink inside the curve of the C. Cecil likes it anyway.

The first Carlos that Cecil has ever met comes into town and Cecil and is the most excited he’s ever been. His whole body quivers with delight right up until Intern Guillermo tells Cecil that Carlos’s wrist does not have a name on it. Multiple people had shaken Carlos’s strong, brown hand and seen no name just above it. Such an uncommon thing has been the town’s primary subject of gossip in the few hours since Carlos arrived. Cecil does not know what to make of it and it fills him with fear. What if Carlos is somehow incapable of love? What if this is not the man Cecil has been waiting for? What if City Council tattoos the names of strangers on to citizens’ arms and lies about it just for fun? Intern Guillermo does not notice Cecil’s panic and insteads chats about Carlos’  _ arms _ , and that _ hair _ , and Cecil finds himself suitably distracted from his worries.

With a few carefully directed interns, Cecil manages to suss out exactly how Carlos feels about the person-to-person matching system and the idea of having a determined. The results are not good. Most of Carlos’ answers to direct questioning (“What? I have no idea what ‘PtPMS’ is.” “Yes, I am very determined to understand the science of this town, if that’s what you mean.” “Why do people keep asking me about my sexuality?”) do not inspire much in Cecil. His general ideas on love are not much better. Carlos does not believe that two people could be perfect for each other, nor does he believe in the idea of waiting for the right person. But he is “gay, a 6 on the Kinsey Scale, please stop asking” so Cecil is not without hope, yet he still refrains from telling Carlos about their match. He wants to think of a way to show Carlos without driving him away. Cecil doesn’t for a long time. It is not until that night at the Desert Flower Bowling Alley and Arcade Fun Complex that Cecil finds the right way to tell Carlos.

“Nothing. I just wanted to see you.” Cecil is overjoyed. He is overwhelmed. He is literally having a heart attack (specifically, myocardial ischemia due to coronary artery spasm), which he will worry about later.

“I have to show you something,” he breathes out in a rush of fear, anxiety, and cautious hope.

“I’m sure it can’t be any weirder than what I’ve seen already.” Carlos chuckles, though he is not amused. He stares out into the sunset and runs a hand through his hair. The sight is so beautiful that it restarts the normal function of Cecil’s heart.

Cecil takes off his slouchy mohair sweater because he can’t roll his sleeve up high enough to show all the names beneath it. He sees Carlos looking vaguely alarmed and mildly interested at the crop top beneath it. 

Cradling his left arm close to his chest in a move long-remembered from grade school, Cecil says “Please don’t be scared.” Carlos cocks an eyebrow at him, but Cecil knows that bravery won’t last long. He lets his arm down, placing it carefully between them.

“What are th-? Cecil! How do you know-...where did you learn those?!” Carlos’s eyes are wide and panicky and Cecil has to close his to calm himself.

“Carlos, I promise it wasn’t me. I didn’t do this.” The man in question lets out a frenzied, incredulous laugh but Cecil pushes ahead. “Haven’t you noticed how everyone in this town has a name on their wrist?”

“Yes,” Carlos says cautiously, unwilling to lie even under such stressful circumstances.

“It’s something the City Council does. To ensure that we all find love and are happy, productive citizens.” 

“But Cecil,” Carlos says through gritted teeth, “how did they know all of those-, I mean my names? God, this is so creepy.” 

“I’m afraid I don’t know the answer to that question.” Cecil replies sadly.

Carlos is still, his eyes fixed on the names near Cecil’s elbow.

“Listen to me. Everything is okay, okay? This doesn’t have to mean anything. This probably doesn’t mean anything, honestly. How could something so small mean anything compared to how vast existence is? Or the universe? That’s pretty big too!” As Cecil spoke, Carlos’s eyes strayed to the very first name. His very first name. Slowly, Carlos’s fingers found the writing. They trace over the letters slowly because they and their owner could hardly believe the existence of such an impossibly possible thing.

Inch by inch, name by name, Carlos relearns his life on someone else’s skin. Quiet and introspective, the silence was only broken when Carlos says “You already know so much about me.”

Cecil’s heart flutters. “I don’t, really. Just some words. A few meanings. Relatively little, compared to what there is to know.” 

“You know about my Greek phase,” Carlos says with a wry smile. “Oh god, you know about my Greek phase!” His smile becomes less wry and more of a horrified frown and then is covered up by one of his hands. Carlos presses his shoulder against Cecil’s, whose heart seriously needs to calm down before it explodes. 

“I think it’s cute. If that’s not rude to say,” Cecil says cautiously. Carlos laughs, the sound muffled by his hands and his disbelief.

“It’s not rude to say if I think that’s nice of you to say,” Carlos replies. Cecil laughs too and pulls Carlos in closer to him.

“Thanks.”   
  
“You too.”

* * *

 

It only takes four years for Carlos to come home from work, see Cecil sitting on the couch by the door, and offer him a handshake instead of a customary smooch. 

“What are you doing, Carlos?” Cecil asks, his nose wrinkling with confusion. 

“Come on, honey, get up and shake my hand properly.” Carlos sounds excited about something, which makes Cecil excited. 

As Cecil stands up, Carlos still has his hand extended in that particular Night Vale way--left handed, with the thumb turned out so the wrist is exposed--that outsiders often fail to pick up. Cecil walks from the couch and moves to stand in front of Carlos. His eyes flicker to the scientist’s wrist, which is covered by a bandage. Something beautiful and hopeful detonates like a frag grenade in Cecil’s chest.

“Did you …?” Cecil breathes out, forgetting how to perform the wet mechanism of human language for a moment.

“Come shake my hand and find out,” Carlos teases, extending his arm further. Cecil practically lunges for it, first turning his arm out in the same manner so that Carlos could read his names (only seven are visible, the rest under his sleeve), then grabbing Carlos’ hand and shaking it firmly and perhaps a bit wildly. Carlos chuckles beautifully. 

“Can I ...?” Cecil barely asks again, complex verbal communication still beyond his grasp, unlike Carlos’ strong hand.

“Just a peek. It’s still fresh.” A frisson of delight shivers up Cecil’s back.

Cecil squeezes Carlos’ left hand very tightly in his own as he reaches for the bandage with his right. Peeling it up as quickly as he can without it being painful, he sees his own name in black ink on his boyfriend’s wrist. There is even a spot of ink in the curve of the C, just like with Cecil’s last tattoo. 

“Oh,  _ Carlos _ .” A smile spreads beautifully across the man in question’s face.

“Nurse Daniel was more than willing to whip out the tattoo machine again for me,” Carlos explains. 

Cecil is too overcome with emotion to even say two word sentences anymore, and just presses the bandage back into place, stroking the palm of Carlos’ hand gently.

The scientist clears his throat and grabs Cecil’s hands. 

“I know that this has been permanent for you for a long time. I was scared at first, of course. I was scared of everything at first. I still have a healthy fear of most things, but I am not afraid of you anymore. I’m not afraid of this. As of forty minutes ago, this is permanent for me too.” Carlos stops speaking but seems like he still wants to say something. Cecil resumes stroking Carlos’ palm.

“Is there something you’d like to ask me, Carlos?” Cecil asks, trying not to be too hopeful. 

“Will you marry me?” Carlos spills out, scarcely waiting for Cecil to finish speaking. “Oh, that wasn’t romantic at all! I’m sorry, Cecil, can I try aga-?” He is cut off by Cecil’s face suddenly being on his face.

Pulling back for a moment, Cecil says “This is the most romantic thing you or anyone has ever done for me. I have been in love with you since the day I was born, have loved you every day since, and I have never loved you more than I do now.”

That pinched, uncomfortable “Night Vale is, on occasion, too weird for me” grimace that Carlos gets when Cecil mentions being in love with him before they met makes a temporary appearance. It is replaced with a more appreciable look of utter affection. Cecil isn’t bothered by the grimace, because he knows that things are different for Carlos and that he sometimes has to express that. 

“I- … Thank you,” Carlos stutters before saying “Oh, right. I love you too!” 

Resting his head against his fiancee(!)’s chest, Cecil says “This is going to be amazing.”

“Of course it will be,” Carlos says matter-of-factly. 

And that was that.

**Author's Note:**

> I've read this so many times I'm not sure if it makes sense anymore. Please leave constructive criticism if that's your kind of thing.
> 
> 3-8-18 edit: boy i just realized that they can't shake hands like that. Fixed up some of the wording.


End file.
